


Past Continuous

by TheMaraD



Series: PotC AU [2]
Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-26 14:27:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30107373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMaraD/pseuds/TheMaraD
Summary: Sequel to False Dichotomy.It's been six months since the events at Shipwreck Cove. Six months since Captains Charlie and James Norrington were married rather unconventionally by Jack Sparrow. Six months of bliss. Until they sail into Nassau with prisoners and supplies to offload for King and Country. Suddenly, James is spending the night in a brothel with his wife, Charlie is attending a ball in a corseted gown, then to top it all of James winds up kidnapped! Worst of all they can't even blame Jack Sparrow this time!Finding James was easy, thanks to a twitchy harbour master and a certain friendly Lieutenant. But the island of Anguilla isn't what they expected. Why couldn't James Norrington get kidnapped by undead pirates? Life would've been so much easier that way....
Relationships: James Norrington/Original Female Character(s)
Series: PotC AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2192031
Kudos: 6





	1. Here Shall Be A New Game

**Author's Note:**

> I've only got a few chapters planned out so far, but I wanted to start posting. I'm not sure how quickly I can update this, but I am working away. I'm hoping to finish somewhere around 20 chapters, but we'll see. I'll update the number of chapters when the full outline is done. And...maybe again after that because I'm indecisive haha.
> 
> This'll be a little different to False Dichotomy - I'll be switching viewpoints between Charlie and Norrington. I felt it served the story better this way, since there's a lot going on affecting both of them.
> 
> I did change one line in False Dichotomy. The person who burned down Charlie's ship and crew isn't Spanish. For reasons. Ahem.
> 
> Anyway, still an AU, still not mine.

Charlie grinned as  _ the Golden Cutlass  _ sailed toward Nassau port. It had been six months since she had won the ship in a game of chance in Shipwreck Cove. James had asked her not to tell him whether she had cheated, so she kept that firmly to herself, while bringing it up as often as possible to tease him. One of the things she loved most about her husband was how easy it was to get him fired up. 

Standing on the quarterdeck, she had the best view of coming into the port. The gold-painted bowsprit that gave the ship her name led the way as they cut through the calm seas, followed by the dark blue panels and gold trimming the rest of the ship bore. The gold-trimmed sails waved in the breeze while the Union Flag fluttered proudly, declaring their allegiance for all to see. Somehow it seemed like a better idea to fly the King’s Colours than the colours of the Pirate Lord of the Caribbean.

She leaned against the railing overlooking the main deck and grinned. There were hardly any clouds in the sky as the gulls warbled overhead and the ocean waves lapped at the ship. The only noise came from the sea and the crew. This was heaven.

And James was sitting in their cabin, missing it all.

A sigh blew past her lips. As much as she was grateful that James handled the official side of things, it could certainly be bothersome at times. Pushing back from the railing, she decided he had spent enough time sorting their paperwork for Nassau. It was high time he joined her on the deck and enjoyed the sea air before they reached the port.

She descended the stairs from the quarterdeck, nodding at Joanna to take over, then pushed open the cabin door. James was sitting at the desk at the side of the room, captivated by a pile of paperwork. He was so engrossed in the document he was poring over that he did not even seem to notice her enter. After six months of marriage to the man and sharing the living space on their ship, though, she knew he had caught her entry.

Crossing her arms and cocking her head to the side, she waited by the door for him to speak first.

A smirk slid into place - one she knew to be reserved for her and her antics, as James had put it. He knew why she was there.

When he did not speak, she sighed and crossed the room. Coming to a stop behind him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her cheek against his. Her mouth quirked up as his hand reached up to hold hers. “How many times have you been over all of this?”

“I’m nearly done, darling,” he muttered, his thumb caressing her hand.

“And we’re nearly at port,” she shot back. “It’s a cloudless day on the open sea and my husband is locked away indoors poring over bureaucracy.” Pushing the paper in his hands to the desk, she held the pile firmly down. “It’s fine, James. And if it’s not, they can hang and we’ll find another port to trade in.”

“With a reputation for neglecting our paperwork?” he asked, half-turning his head toward her with an amused smile

She grinned and kissed his cheek. “Then we turn to piracy and live happily ever after without bureaucracy.”

“Charlotte,” he laughed.

“I’m certain the papers are fine, James,” she assured him. “I’m certain because you’re the one who saw to it. Come out on deck and enjoy the sea with me before we’re stuck in port for however long.”

When he sighed and looked regretfully back down at the papers still trapped beneath her hand she knew she had won.

“Alright, darling,” he conceded. “Lead the way.”

Pulling back, she kept her hand on the papers and sat on the edge of the desk, eyes sparkling.

His shoulders shook with silent laughter as he pushed up out of the chair, then bent down to capture her lips quickly. 

After pushing him toward the door, she quickly shoved the papers into the desk and followed him out into the sunlight. “I told you it was better out here,” she said, taking note of the way his face lit up as soon as he crossed the threshold.

He led the way up to the quarterdeck and took over at the helm from Joanna, while Charlie leaned back against the rail and watched. His face was beaming as he turned to her.

“Bit of sun, calm seas, and the open ocean’s all you needed,” she said, admiring the way his green eyes sparkled in the sunlight.

“That and my wife,” he said, holding his hand out to her.

Accepting it, she allowed herself to be pulled to stand between him and the wheel. It seemed to be his favourite way to steer the  _ Cutlass _ , sharing command at the helm with her. Not that she was complaining.

“This was a surprisingly romantic idea from you,” he muttered into her ear as he bent down so they were cheek to cheek.

“I can be romantic,” she huffed.

She felt his cheek move as the corner of his lip upturned in what she imagined was a smirk. “Darling, your capacity for traditional romance is not one of the many reasons I fell in love with you. Do you recall when I gave you those roses?”

“Roses die!” she protested. “How is that romantic?”

“Roses were favoured by the goddess Aphrodite,” he chuckled. “Nine roses, as I gave you, symbolise eternal love.”

“How?” she exclaimed. “Why nine? Why not ten? Or Six?”

“Ten roses mean ‘you’re perfect’ and six mean ‘I want to be yours’. I’m already yours,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on her shoulder.

Despite the eye roll, she could not stop her smile. “Shall I get a fan in Nassau and wave it about like a poor man’s semaphore to show the Governor that I love you?”

James laughed lightly as he kissed her cheek, before raising his head to look out over the ocean.

“I can be romantic,” she insisted, raising her left hand and pointing at the tattoo. “This is far more romantic than a bunch of dying flowers.”

“As I recall, you had a very practical reason for it. Something about not being able to lose it like you would a ring?”

“That doesn’t make it less romantic!”

“Yes, dear,” he chuckled. He knew she hated it when he did that, he was baiting her.

“I can be romantic,” she insisted, turning around to face him.

His eyes lit up with amusement. “Prove it.”

“I will,” she replied, chin in the air as she turned back to the wheel. In the distance Nassau started to rise above the horizon. Down on the deck she saw Joanna descend the stairs leading toward the brig. They would need the prisoners prepared for transport to the jail in Nassau’s fort. “We’ll be at port soon. I ought to go help her.”

James wrapped an arm around her middle to pull her closer and kiss her cheek. “Be quick.”

“Wouldn’t want to miss the harbourmaster acting as though I don’t exist,” she said with a smirk, before gently pushing out of his arms and descending the below deck.

* * *

Unfortunately Charlotte had been correct. The harbour master, a weasley man with greying hair that stood about a foot shorter than James, had walked right past her to address him.

“Good day, Captain, might I see your papers?”

Biting back a worse comment with a tight smirk, he gestured to her and said, “my wife has them.”

The man sputtered and looked between them, his expression alternating between scandal and indignance. “You...your...that’s….”

And that was the moment Charlotte, with all the grace he had come to love, strode forward and greeted him. “Captain Norrington,” she introduced herself with a small sarcastic curtsey. Without letting the harbour master respond, she produced a bundle of papers from her jacket and handed them to him. “And here is our paperwork.”

As she spoke his unamused smirk slipped into a full-blown smile. Good God, he loved his wife.

The harbour master gaped, then turned back to him. “Captain, I really must -.”

“You heard Captain Norrington,” he said lightly. Six months of marriage and he still loved the sound of his wife being called ‘Captain Norrington’. He was fairly certain he would never tire of it.

When the harbour master resigned himself and took the papers to his station to record the details, he felt Charlotte slide her arm around his middle and curl up against his side. “What say you after we’ve handed over the prisoners, we find an inn for the night. A quiet night alone, away from the crew?”

Biting back a groan at the thought, he bent to capture her lips quickly and rest his forehead against hers. “That may be the best idea I’ve heard yet,” he murmured as his arm slid around her back to pull her closer.

“No brawls, though, aye?” she said, her lower lip worrying between her teeth as she reached up to finger his lapels.

“I don’t start brawls, Charlotte,” he huffed, reaching up to capture a lock of her hair between his fingers. Her dark brown locks were surprisingly soft, considering how much time they spent at sea.

“What about Bermuda?” she countered, grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

“That was hardly my fault,” he groused.

“You threatened to disembowel the bartender.”

“You would’ve done so yourself if you had heard what he’d said about you,” he insisted, his arm tightening around her waist. Shifting his gaze away from his wife, he felt his jaw clench of its own volition and tried not to think about the crass remarks. 

Her soft hand gently pulled his gaze back to hers. “As much as I appreciate you defending my honour, I hate being the reasonable one in this marriage,” she insisted with a smirk. “And I would like one night with just the two of us, alone and unclothed until we’re struggling to walk.”

Yet again he found himself biting back a groan as his hands slid across her body to rest on her hips and turn her to fully face him. "As you wish," he muttered, relishing in the sound she made as his fingers dug into her sides. Just before his lips connected with hers, though, a voice cut through his haze.

"Captain Norrington!"

Charlotte turned around in his arms to greet their interrupter and he sighed in frustration. So close.

It was not until he felt her elbowing his stomach that he realised she had been speaking to him. He looked up at her and saw her amused smirk and arched eyebrow, then looked past her to see Lieutenant Groves watching him with amused curiosity.

“Captain,” Groves greeted him with a nod.

“Lieutenant,” he greeted stiffly, trying to regain what little dignity he might have left. “What brings you to Nassau?”

The look Groves exchanged with Charlotte did not escape him, but rather than drag out his embarrassment further, he chose to ignore it.

“We’ve just escorted the governor back from Port Royal,” his former second replied, still attempting to hide a smirk. “He’s invited us to stay a few days and attend his daughter’s coming of age gala. I believe he’s trying to marry her off to one of my men.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Charlotte make a face. “I remember those.”

Groves grinned. “I seem to recall you telling me once you ran away from getting ready for yours to play on the beach. I take it you don’t enjoy them.”

James held back a frown. When did she tell Groves about that?

“Dresses and smiling and gossip….”

“I find it difficult to imagine you in a dress, darling,” James chuckled. He could only imagine she would spend the entire night cursing the subtle hand gestures and itching to change back into her trousers.

But she grinned up at him, that up-to-no-good grin he adored and loathed. “You’ve seen me in a dress.”

His jaw tightened as he tried not to remember how she looked in that tight black dress that left little to the imagination and even less room for underthings. “I recall,” he shot back dryly.

“You in a dress?” Groves laughed. “I wish I’d seen it with my own eyes.”

“You didn’t miss much,” Charlotte replied, the mischievous grin becoming a smirk.

James could not stop the glare he levelled at the Lieutenant. It was not as though Groves realised Charlotte was teasing, but that did not stop his anger. Ignoring the amused look Charlotte cast him when he pulled her close, he smiled stiffly and changed the conversation. “Perhaps you could help us with our prisoner transfer? An escort to the fort?”

“Of course!” he agreed, smiling brightly. If he realised James was jealous, he was not showing it. “I’ll collect some men for an escort.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” he said.

As soon as Groves was out of earshot, Charlotte turned to look up at him. “Are you jealous?” she snickered, sliding her hands up to fist in his jacket.

“You  _ had _ to bring up the dress,” he grumbled.

“It’s hardly my fault you’re incredibly easy to tease,” she muttered, tracing the pattern on the trim of his jacket with her finger. “I am  _ not _ coming with you to do paperwork, by the by. You gents are on your own.”

“I assumed as much, darling,” he replied, cupping her jaw and tracing the line with his thumb.

“I will, however, find us a place to stay tonight while you’re doing that,” she offered, biting her lower lip and looking up at him through her lashes.

Good God, he could drown in those blue eyes of hers, like the depths of the sea. “A good idea, if I’ve ever heard one,” he murmured. “The sooner I can get you alone, the better.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” she muttered, pulling him slowly down toward her lips.

A hair's breadth away, Groves called out to them. For the third time since docking he found himself cursing the man, but Charlotte did not seem to mind. She pulled him the rest of the way to her and kissed him softly, teasing his lower lip gently as she pulled back with a grin. Sighing, he rested his forehead against hers; he could not wait to get her alone.

“You two enjoy your pomp and circumstance at the fort,” she said before sliding out of his arms and heading back to the  _ Cutlass _ . She looked back and tossed him a wink, then called out a farewell to Groves before boarding.

Groves handed him the paperwork from the harbour master. “She’s not coming with us?”

“Charlotte loathes paperwork,” he muttered, tearing his gaze away from the ship to look back at his former second. “What?”

“She suits you,” he said, smiling. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“Like what?” he asked, frowning.

“Happy. Relaxed,” Groves clarified, turning to direct the arriving navy escort.

From the corner of his eye he caught sight of his wife on the deck of their ship and could not stop the corner of his lips from tugging up in a half smile. She and Joanna were directing the prisoners off the ship.

“Sir?” Groves called, bringing his attention back to the task at hand.

When he turned, he caught some of the navy men he recognised hiding looks of disgust and he frowned.

“Ignore them,” Groves muttered as he walked with him to the head of the column.

He smiled tightly at Groves in acknowledgement, but could not shake the strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. It took him a moment to realise it was shame. The looks had made him feel as though he were a child being berated by his father again for his poor choices. But what did he have to be ashamed of? Charlotte was the best thing that ever happened to him.

During the off-boarding of the prisoners, he caught the looks a few more times and tried his best to ignore them.

* * *

Charlie sighed nervously as she boarded the  _ Golden Cutlass _ . James was going to hate this. Part of her hoped he had not yet returned from the fort so she could have some more time to find a way to break the news to him gently. It was not that she had been unable to find a place, it was that the only place willing to shelter a woman in trousers for the night would be...less than ideal to him.

Luckily, it was Joanna directing the crew as they cleaned the ship from the prisoners and the remaining scars from the battle. When Joanna saw her, she arched her eyebrow in question and Charlie waved a hand to indicate she should follow her into the captain’s dining cabin.

“You don’t look happy,” Joanna muttered, following her into the cabin.

“That’s because I have to tell my darling proper husband that the only inn in town willing to tolerate a brash pirate woman in trousers for the night is a brothel,” she grumbled, falling into one of the dining chairs. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to seek shelter in one, however I can’t imagine James will be as nonchalant about the situation.”

“So?” Joanna asked, taking a seat at the table. “You cancelling your night ashore with your husband because a few assholes refused to give you a room because you wore trousers?”

Charlie worked her mouth open and closed a few times. It had not even occurred to her to try to cancel, she had just worried he might want to do so. “No,” she said slowly. “But can I convince James to not cancel?”

Her second snorted a laugh. “You think any man is going to  _ want _ to cancel a night alone with his wife?”

“When you put it that way….” Pulling a dagger out of her jacket, she twirled it in her fingers as she considered her plan of attack. 

After a while, Joanna laughed. “If your only plan is to stab him so he’ll agree due to massive blood loss, I may need to point out some flaws in it.”

“Funny,” she said dryly. 

“If he was anyone else, I’d suggest a bit of rum to placate him first,” Joanna laughed.

“I’m not saying ‘no’ to that idea,” Charlie giggled, thinking back to the last time she had seen him drunk. “A little in his tea, perhaps. I might even get him to grow back the beard….” Biting her lip to hold back her smile, she remembered how it felt when he had kissed her for the first time.

“Captain Propriety unshaven? I can’t even imagine…,” Joanna muttered.

Charlie opened her mouth, ready to make a comment about how handsome he was with the beard, when the door to the cabin opened and a very exasperated James walked in. Without realising, she stood up and crossed the room to wrap her arms around him.

“Charlotte,” he greeted, holding her tightly and resting his chin on top of her head. “Joanna.” Almost immediately, she felt some of the tension leave his body. Paperwork would not have vexed him so, nothing at the fort should have bothered him. What had happened?

“And that would be my cue to leave,” Joanna muttered, dancing around them to the door. “Enjoy the night away.” She was gone before either of them could say anything.

“James?” she called, pulling back to look up at him. The smile he offered as he stroked her hair did not quite reach his eyes. Sighing, he leaned into her touch when she reached up to cup his jaw.

“Not tonight,” he whispered. “Tonight I just want to spend the night with you and forget about the day.”

“About that…,” she began awkwardly.

His posture stiffened. “You didn’t find anywhere to stay?”

“No, not...exactly,” she said. “I did, eventually. You’d be surprised at how many men turn their noses up at money from a pirate woman wearing trousers.”

“Privateer.”

She grinned at that. “I think the difference would be lost on them, darling.”

A wry smile twisted his features. “Likely so.”

“I went everywhere, all over town,” she continued. “And this woman, she was quite nice, she saw what was happening, and she offered me a guest room in her….”

“Her?”

“Um.”

He arched an eyebrow at her, smiling lightly.

“It’s...it’s a brothel?” she replied, squinting up at him. She was unsure how he would react, beyond not liking it.

“I beg your pardon?”

“A brothel,” she repeated. “But the room is a guest room, not a…’guest’ room, as it were. It’s for friends and family, she assured me. It’s not for their clientele.”

“A...brothel…,” he said slowly.

“Yes?” she squeaked out.

“Christ, Charlotte,” he sighed, crossing the room to the liquor cabinet.

“She was quite nice,” Charlie insisted, following him. “And...and these girls, they don’t all have the luxury of a wonderful and understanding husband or family. People who support their sense of independence. They sought out independence the only way they were able to do.”

Turning abruptly, he arched that damned eyebrow at her again.

Approaching slowly, she took the wine glass out of his hand and put it down. “I should think you would understand why I can empathise with young women wanting some semblance of freedom. And if Jack hadn’t found me, who knows what would’ve happened.”

“Charlotte,” he sighed, pulling her into his arms and resting his cheek on the top of her head.

“I went there,” she muttered into his chest. “Earlier. It’s nice. The girls...they didn’t have any of the sadness in their eyes I’ve seen elsewhere. They’re happy. I wouldn’t be willing to give the proprietor my custom otherwise.”

His arms tightened around her. “And what would you have done if they hadn’t been happy?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, pulling back to frown up at him.

“I mean,” he began, smiling softly as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, “you wouldn’t have simply walked away, if they’d been unhappy.”

“No,” she admitted. “I probably would’ve offered them a job or safe passage. Nobody deserves to be treated like property.”

“That’s a surprisingly calm solution,” he chuckled.

“The Jack Sparrow approach isn’t always best,” she agreed. They still had not reached an agreement on their accommodations, though, so she pressed ahead. “So what say you?”

James sighed and his mouth pressed into a tight line as he fingered a lock of her hair. “You’ve visited and found it...agreeable?”

“I have,” she whispered. “It’s clean. And the room is quite spacious, especially compared to the quarters on an old galleon. I don’t think we’ll be able to hear any of the goings on, nor will they hear us. It’s very private.”

Another sigh. “It may not be my first choice, but I trust your judgement, Charlotte.”

Part of her wanted to hollar and celebrate in relief, but she was worried it would scare him off. Instead, she said, “Good. I’ve been looking forward to getting you alone.”

“Have you?” he asked, his grip on her waist tightening as he pulled her closer. “And what do you plan to do with me when we’re alone?” His lips went to her neck while her hands threaded into his hair.

“You’ll have to wait and see,” she breathed, gasping when he nipped lightly at the spot just below her ear.

“Then I suggest we make haste,” he murmured into the crook of her neck.


	2. The Social Order

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not mine, AU, etc etc etc....
> 
> I still don't know how often I'll be updating, but here we go with chapter 2 :)

While not eventful, James Norrington would never be able to say his trip to Nassau was not interesting thus far. After spending the night in a brothel of all places with his wife, they arrived back at the _Cutlass_ to find a carriage sent by the Governor, waiting to take them to their meeting at the Governor’s mansion. From one extreme to the other, it seemed. Not that he should be surprised. Ever since he met Charlotte, his life had taken some rather unexpected turns.

When the carriage pulled up to the mansion, he hopped out first and offered Charlotte his hand. Though she gave him a wry look, she took it without a word and allowed him to tuck her hand into the crook of his arm. Of course he knew she could have descended the carriage on her own, but it felt proper to help her out. Something about the mansion made him more mindful of his manners.

“You do realise,” Charlotte muttered as they were escorted inside, “if there’s bureaucracy involved, you’re Captain Norrington and I’m content as a cucumber to take advantage of any hospitality whilst you tend to it?”

He chuckled lightly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, Charlotte.”

“Wonderful,” she said, smiling.

They were led into a grand entrance way with a winding staircase, vaulted ceiling, and pristine marble floors. Their escort turned to them and requested they wait there while he announced their arrival.

“This isn’t too different from the house I grew up in,” Charlotte mumbled as he felt her tuck in a little closer while bringing her other hand up to his arm.

When he turned to look at her, she looked uneasy. Dropping a kiss on her head, he threaded his fingers through hers where they rested on his arm.

At that moment their escort returned and announced Governor Fitzwilliam was ready to see them.

James nodded and led Charlotte down a hall where their escort opened a door and waved them in. 

Governor Fitzwilliam was standing at a window, overlooking the port. He turned when they entered and enthusiastically greeted, “Ah, Captain Norrington, Mrs. Norrington.”

“Captain Norrington,” Charlotte corrected, tearing her eyes away from the ostentatious decor. “We’re both Captain Norrington. Unless you want to discuss paperwork, then he’s Captain Norrington.”

The corners of his mouth went upward of their own volition as he watched his wife correct the most powerful man in Nassau. It seemed regardless of how uneasy the mansion made her, she had pulled herself together just as he knew she would.

The Governor scrunched his features together as he tried to process what she had said. “You two share captaincy? How novel!”

Charlotte moved slightly and opened her mouth, but he beat her to it. “What can we do for you today, Governor?” Best not to insult their host whilst in the middle of his own house. He squeezed her hand gently, suppressing a grin when she rolled her eyes.

“I do have some papers here that need signing,” he muttered, digging around in the desk. “Relating to the prisoner transfer, you know how it is. Apologies this had to be done here, but my daughter’s coming of age gala is tonight and I’m needed for preparations. If everything’s not perfect….” He straightened and placed the papers on the desk. “Well, you know how women are.”

Again, he found himself holding Charlotte back, stepping out in front of his wife and reaching behind him to hold her back. The Governor did not seem to realise he was playing with fire by belittling her. “What is it you need me to sign?” he asked. They would be lucky to make it out of the mansion in one piece at this rate.

He laid the papers on the desk, pointing to each place he required a signature and explaining what each was for. James accepted an ornate quill and began applying his signature where required.

“I heard you were having some difficulty finding accommodations yesterday, Mrs...I mean, Captain Norrington?” the Governor asked, smiling an apology that did not quite reach his eyes.

“We managed,” she replied simply with a tight grin of her own. “Thank you for your concern, Governor.”

He turned slightly as he signed to look back at her and smile. Loathe it though she may, Charlotte was actually quite good at being diplomatic when required. She returned his smile, then turned her attention to the books lining the walls.

“Oh, those wouldn’t be of any interest,” the Governor dismissed.

“On the contrary,” he heard her say as he applied the final signature. “You can learn a lot about a man from his books.”

“Was there anything else you needed, Governor Fitzwilliam?” he asked, dragging the man’s attention back and handing him the quill.

“You know,” he began, looking back to Charlotte briefly, “I know your father, Admiral Norrington. Good man.”

Charlotte coughed loudly. Her opinions on his father were quite well-known to him.

“I heard you were on your way to the admiralty as well,” he continued, oblivious. “It’s quite the change, from the Royal Navy to a privateer.”

There it was again. The shame he had felt the day before when the sailors were hiding their disgust. He smiled tightly and repeated, “was there anything else you needed, Governor?”

“You should attend the gala tonight,” he said brightly. “I believe some of your former acquaintances in the Royal Navy will be in attendance.”

“Thank you, Governor, but -,” he began.

“No, no, I insist!”

“I’m afraid,” Charlotte offered, “we’re not dressed for such an occasion, Governor. We’re privateers, such extravagant raiment has no place on a privateer ship.” He knew she was all too happy to decline.

“Nonsense!” Fitzwilliam exclaimed. “We’ll have you outfitted in no time!”

Charlotte’s wide eyes found his.

“Governor, if you please - might I have a moment alone with my wife?”

“Of course, of course! Please!” he muttered as he walked to the door. “I ought to check on Lydia anyway! I’ll return shortly. And I warn you, I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer!”

James smiled tightly at him as he backed out through the door.

“No,” Charlotte said almost the moment the door closed.

“It’s one night,” he sighed. “We can take advantage of his hospitality and be on our way in the morning.”

“Have you ever worn a corset?”

“Fortunately, no,” he muttered, smirking.

“They’re uncomfortable at best! You can’t breathe in them! What if -.”

“Undead pirates break into the mansion and steal away with you to lift a curse?” he offered lightly, leaning back against the desk.

Her eyes narrowed at him. “Not funny.” She crossed her arms and turned back to the bookshelf. “I looked at your bookshelf on the _Dauntless_ when we first met, you know,” she muttered.

Pushing off the desk, he approached her from behind and circled his arms around her waist. “And?” he asked, bending to rest his chin on her shoulder.

“You have better taste,” she mumbled, fingering the spine of one of the books - _The Prince_ by Niccolo Machiavelli. It was not a book he had read, but he knew enough about it to know it was hardly a book worthy of emulating. The use of immoral means to achieve your own ends? The only time he overstretched his morals to achieve an end, he had lost his entire crew and wound up a penniless drunkard in Tortuga. It was a source of shame, not pride, to hang your morality to achieve your goals.

He grinned and placed a kiss on her shoulder, then trailed upwards to whisper in her ear. “It’s one night, darling. We stay for a few hours, then when we get back to the _Cutlass_ I’ll rip whatever dress he puts you in off myself and toss it overboard,” he said, punctuating the last part with a light nip at her neck.

Turning around in his arms, she smiled brightly up at him and caressed his cheek. Somehow her grin became even brighter, her cheeks turning a pleasant shade of red when he sighed and leaned into her hand.

“One night?” she asked softly.

“Just one,” he agreed. “Then I tear the dress to pieces and burn it.”

“Can I help?” she asked, smirking.

A light laugh escaped as he bent to capture her lips and pull her flush against him.

The Governor returned shortly after and James informed him they would attend the gala. While Charlotte was whisked away for a dress, he was also escorted to a fitting of his own. On the way he again noticed Royal Navy soldiers giving him sidelong glances of disgust. And once again he pushed down the shameful feeling in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

The maid who had been helping Charlie get dressed and made up for the gala apologised as she was called away to help the family. When the door shut behind her, Charlie looked in the mirror again and tried to breathe as shallowly as possible.

They had put her in a light green and gold dress that was relatively slim around the hips compared to some fashions she had seen ladies wearing in various ports, sliding in a smooth slope from her bust to the floor. The sleeves turned to lace at her elbows and draped down in a bell-shape to cover her forearms.

 _How on Earth am I going to get my hair back to normal_ , she thought to herself. Her hair was teased and tangled in a short pile of curls atop her head, with a single curl falling down her neck. At least her makeup was quite plain - at her own insistence. She had refused to allow herself to be caked in it. Lightly coloured cheeks and deepened colour on her lips was the most she would allow the maid to do.

She tried to take a deep breath, but found herself hindered by the corset. Glancing to the shoes in the corner, she sighed as heavily as the corset would allow and walked over to slip into them.

Nothing about this was comfortable to her.

What had James been thinking? Why on Earth would he want to attend a gala with dresses and gossip and doublespeak when they could spend the night on the _Cutlass_ together?

She let out a growl of frustration and looked around for something she could hit or break that did not look expensive. Though she had to admit that breaking something expensive would feel good.

In the corner she spied her own clothing and weapons behind the dressing screen, and decided to slip a few daggers in for good measure. If she could not break something, she could at least be armed. Thankfully the dress had more than a few folds that would easily conceal a few weapons.

After she had hidden a few daggers, a knock sounded at the door.

“Come!” she shouted, sliding one last small blade down the front of her dress with a grin.

“Charlotte?” James’s voice sounded.

“I’m arming myself,” she grumbled, smirking a little at the sound of his laughter. Adjusting the corset as ungracefully as possible to try to catch a breath, she came out from behind the screen. “I told you these things were too bloody tight. I can barely breathe.”

When she looked up, she saw James staring at her with his jaw hanging open and she froze. He wore a deep green coat with gold trim that closely resembled the uniforms he had worn in the Royal Navy, a pale waistcoat also with gold trim, a lace cravat, deep green breeches, and black shoes with gold buckles. A black tricorn hat completed the ensemble, atop the powdered wig he wore. Thankfully, it was not an ostentatious wig, but a rather short and simple one. He looked incredibly handsome and she felt her throat go a little dry at the sight. 

“You look beautiful, Charlotte,” he breathed, crossing the room in long strides to take her in his arms and kiss her quickly.

Pulling back, she grinned up at him and bit her lip. “We’re back to wigs again?” she teased, fingering one of the curls on the side of his head.

He smiled wickedly. “Perhaps I only agreed so you would have an excuse to straddle me as you took it off tonight.”

“I wasn’t aware I needed a reason to push you down onto the bed and straddle you, James,” she muttered with a smirk, sliding her hand down from his wig to fiddle with the cravat.

“Mmm,” he sighed, pulling her closer at the waist. “Any time you would like, darling.”

A knock sounded at the door and a man’s voice on the other side informed them they were expected downstairs.

Charlie grabbed James by the lapels to stop him turning around. “Promise me,” she whispered, “you’ll stay by my side tonight.”

He smiled tenderly down at her. “My wife - more afraid of a gala in polite society than an army of undead pirates,” he muttered, affectionately tugging at the curl that hung down the side of her neck. “You have my word I’ll stick as closely as possible to you.”

“Good,” she muttered, allowing him to put her hand in the crook of his arm and guide her out the door.


End file.
